


It's great work if you can get it

by Bellaromanza



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: AU, Fashion & Couture, Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-22
Updated: 2011-07-22
Packaged: 2017-10-21 16:10:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellaromanza/pseuds/Bellaromanza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney is the Vera Wang of male wedding clothing. And he needs a model desperately. <br/>This fic is complete, there will be no more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's great work if you can get it

“Oh my god, oh my god! Are all models underweight 12 year old boys?” The designer sputtered, flailing his hands as he shooed the gaggle of hopeful anorexically skinny, unimaginative supposed models away from him. “Go, go back and grow up and maybe eat a hamburger and fries, and for godssake, maybe drink a milkshake while you’re at it!” Rodney McKay, the best designer of male wedding apparel in the world, rolled his eyes at the muffled laughter from his other models and designers and scowled at his assistant, hands on his hips.

“Just because I’m gay,” he enunciated, ignoring Laura’s returned eyeroll, “does not mean I want ~twinks~ in my fashion show!” He ignored the tragic faces of the twee models departing his design space.

Rodney McKay, also known as the Vera Wang of the male side of wedding designers was in the middle of his best collection ever. Which meant he wasn’t going to settle for twinks! He turned and scowled at Jack, who would have been perfect, the lines of his lean body and striking gray hair would have set off the tuxedos nicely. “If Jack hadn’t broken his fucking ankle…”

“I broke my fucking ankle fucking Daniel,” Jack replied mildly, not looking up from the book he was reading, his casted ankle perched on a chair, “it was a fair trade.” A true story, involving a sling apparently, and more details than Rodney wanted to know because he’d just get jealous of his inability to get laid regularly.

Rodney smirked as Daniel, who ~was~ available to model in the show, lifted up the file he was working on and smacked Jack with it. He and Jack and were partners, and Daniel did modeling to pay for his archeological habit while Jack, who was retired military, modeled because Daniel did.

The room was semi noisy due to Radek and his sewers along the back wall, arguing about which way was warp and weft on the bolt of material. “Radek! Are you going to ~cut~ any of that material anytime soon?” he demanded.

Radek’s fuzzy-haired head turned towards him, a scowl on his face behind wire rims. “Have you picked model yet? I think not. Stop harassing me and pick model and then we can talk.”

“Bossy bitch,” Rodney grumbled, knowing that Radek was right. They would need the man’s, ~mystery~ man, at this point, height weight and ability to walk a catwalk before they could determine the amount of fabric for his latest genius in designs.

“My kingdom for a model.”

“What kind of model do you want, Boss?” Laura asked with exasperation. She handed him a laptop with headshots of male models and pushed him into a chair.

“No,” Rodney said, moving through the photos with lightening speed, all the while muttering, “God, no. Too pretty. Lorne? Maybe for the business collection. Kavanaugh? Is this a joke? Ronon? Geez, he’s still on here, I thought he was trying to break into acting?”

“How about him?” Laura’s voice interrupted his scathing remarks and Rodney looked up to see perfection in execrable brown shirt and shorts, (6’2”, slim build, nice shoulders, excellent ass, gravity defying hair, hairy legs, Fedex? United Way?) gracefully man-handling a package out of the cargo elevator that obviously was more material for the company.

“You!” Rodney yelled peremptorily, snapping his fingers. “I’ll give you twice your pay if you leave your job and work for me as a model.”

The man let the package down to the floor and looked at him, lovely hazel eyes puzzled. “What?” Radek and his sewers had fallen silent and were watching with fascination.

“Okay, it’s a good thing that we don’t need geniuses,” McKay allowed generously. “Three times your pay and that’s my limit.”

Pursing his perfect lips, the man gazed around at their fascinated audience and tilted his head. “You’re serious? Three times my current pay, which isn’t peanuts by the way, to wear clothes and walk?”

Daniel muffled a chuckle and Jack laughed outright. “I know, it’s criminally easy but it’s a sweet paycheck.”

“It’s not criminally easy,” Rodney protested. “We need to make sure he’s not going to fall on his face, which would make me look bad and him look stupid. Stupider.”

“Hey!” the man said.

“I’m Rodney McKay. Walk down here and we’ll see if I’ve just made a monumental mistake.”

“Nice to meet you, Rodney,” the man drawled and began to walk towards him, the movement of his hips mesmerizing Rodney as he moved like a well oiled machine. “I’m John Sheppard.”

“Oh fuck,” Rodney said as John Sheppard and his crazy hair and amazing hazel eyes got closer. “You are so so hired.”

Jack leaned over to Daniel. “I never realized he was so so easy.”

Daniel laughed and smacked him again with the folder he’d been working on.

*~*

Two days later John shook his head as he was professionally felt up by the little Czech. “What am I going to be modeling again?”

The man shook his head and stood up. “You have never heard of Rodney McKay?”

“I’m not exactly a fashionista or whatever they’re called,” John replied, his eyes straying over to the enthusiastically gesturing man hovering over what looked like haphazard piles of material. “I tend to wear jeans or shorts and t-shirts.”

Radek clucked disapprovingly. “He designs men’s clothing, specifically wedding and business lines,” he said, inserting the last pin into the trousers he’d been working on. “He is genius, but never tell him I said so or I will make voodoo doll of you and fill it with pins. Take them off.”

John chuckled and obediently unbuttoned the inside out set of pants, letting them slide off of his hips into Radek’s hands. “Why didn’t he hire, oh, I don’t know, a ~real~ model?” Not that he was complaining, of course. His pay, if Rodney McKay liked him in his designs, was going to substantially increase plus he’d get to travel the world. Not a bad career choice, though his father would probably hit the ceiling. He glanced over at the designer and grinned when he caught the blue eyed man watching him.

“Picky man,” Radek said. “Good, put on these,” he ordered, handing over another set of trousers marked up with white lines and words and bristling with pins.

Rodney chose that moment to stride over, critically looking John over. “Don’t lose any weight or the pants won’t hang right and I’ll be forced to hire Ronon to feed you.”

“I’m an adult, I can feed myself,” John said mildly. He slowly, and very carefully, pulled up the trousers, and hid a smirk as the blue eyes glazed slightly. “Something you needed, McKay?”

McKay ignored him. “I had a thought, Radek, remember that bolt of loden in the back?”

Struck by the thought, the little Czech leaned back on his knees, eyes excited. “Yes, yes! A waist coat for one and a swing coat as well!”

The two men snapped fingers at each other and John had to grin as they rapid fired ideas back and forth. He was looking forward to this job, and to getting to know Rodney McKay a lot better.


End file.
